The White House on the Hill
by Cael Watt
Summary: A H.P. Lovecraft inspired story. An investigator searching for a young college student from Arkham finds himself in a most unfortunate situation. Do the lovecraftian run now


As I sit here in the cafe watching the rain fall dismally outside, I find myself continually asking myself why. It is a universal truth that one finds little comfort in, that realization that man is cursed with that undeniable need to know. I feel now that this is indeed a curse, for there are things out there in the depths of space and time that are vastly more horrible than any sane human being can imagine. To believe that our ignorance will shield us from these terrors is folly, for it is human nature, the constant search for answers, that will bring mankind abruptly into the unknown horrors of true reality. It is there that I now walk, in that darkness below the sunny world the rest of the planet resides in, blissful in its lack of knowledge. Every night my dreams grow more vivid and strange, and the thing that hunts me comes ever closer with each passing day. I feel so old now that I feel this is the last chance I have to write of what has happened before IÕm swallowed by that dark world.  
It started one late afternoon in a small town that sat amongst the small hills of Arkham. There was little that could be said of the area, except for the few rumours that still circulated about strange gatherings in the woods and all sorts of men and women going missing. That was why I had come to the place after being hired by the Melbourn family. Their boy had apparently run off from college to Òfind his true calling,Ó leaving only a short cryptic note. After a few interviews and a search of his room I finally figured out that he had gone to some town to perform a strange ritual as a research project. I left as soon as I found out, not wanting to make the three hour drive through those strange hills in the dark.  
And so I came to the quaint little town of Splendour, a name which seemed to fit it quite well. As I drove I was greeted warmly by pedestrians in the street, and was generally met with a warm welcome as I travelled through the clean, well organised roads. I stopped in front of an old cafe and walked inside hoping to find the boy. As I entered I asked the waitress some questions about the Melbourn boy, but she shrugged and suggested I ask someone else in the cafe. As I looked around the small tables and was surprised to see a strange man beckoning me from the corner. As I sat down across from him a cold chill ran down my spine, and I felt that there was something unnatural about the man, his body seeming far too old to still be functioning. His voice grated with a hopeless sense of abandon as he leaned in to look at me.  
ÒYouÕd do well not to snoop about for that young man,Ó his breath to reeked of decay and his eyes looked strangely familiar.  
ÒWell just tell me where he went and I wonÕt bother anyone further on the matter,Ó I could tell that there was little I could get from the wizened old man. The feeling that there was something horribly wrong about him continued to grip me. His whole body shuddered and I thought he was about to fall apart as he sighed and gazed at me with blazing eyes.  
ÒI guess thereÕs no way of stoppinÕ you. Just out of town, up in the hills, thereÕs a house. They say there are a great many things that have happened in that house, strange chanting late at night and bizarre rituals. ThatÕs where he went.Ó The man looked away and sighed again as one does after losing something precious to them. He continued shortly, his voice seeping misery. ÒBut he wonÕt be there any longer, no sir. NobodyÕll see him again,Ó I rose quite uneasy, and made my way calmly out of the cafe, though my mind was screaming and scrambling, trying to place the face. I got into my car and left town that very instant, no longer feeling the buzzing warmth of hospitality.  
It was a short time later, as I drove through the rustic hills that I came upon a little white house. It had been abandoned long ago, though it was evident that there had been squatters residing within it over the years. As I parked the car out front, I worried that the very sound of the engine would bring the place down to the ground in one huge crash, but the decaying building stood firm. Inside there was little furniture, only the dusty floor boards that creaked loudly as I searched the main floor, hoping to find some clue. In one of the halls I found a large bookcase filled with ancient books, many written in strange languages that resembled nothing I had ever seen. Making my way up the stairs I felt a cold shudder crawl down my back, and I felt as though I was not alone in that unearthly silent house. As I rounded a corner I came to a room with a large pentagram painted in the center of the floor. Along the walls there were other strange symbols and scribbles that resembled those of the books downstairs. Upon the ceiling a strange eye had been painted in what looked like blood. Overcome by a sudden wash of fear I retreated back down the steps unable to brave what terrors that floor might hide. I found myself suddenly falling into the cellar as I stepped through a rotten board. I glanced nervously into the dark of the cellar as dustmotes fell lazily around me. There was a strange smell of age and decay, but there was something else to it that I couldnÕt place. There were many odd objects that I didnÕt recognise, and sitting in the corner faintly humming was one that I found the strangest of all.  
At first I thought it to be some kind of power generator, however as I approached I was overcome by a dizziness and knew at once that it was producing some kind of field. I fell to the ground as my mind was pounded by strange sights and feelings and the air around me to quivered as I struggled to get up. Hours began to pass as minutes and I felt as though years were passing by. As I lay on the bare earth, I heard a strange shuffling somewhere amongst the crates across the room, echoing through eons. My heart pounded as the sound grew louder and the unwholesome smell grew more nauseating. Then as the sound reached its climax a horrible abomination peeked around the corner, its evil black eyes glaring at me amongst a nest of thick green tendrils. Its thick malformed legs looked as though they had once been human, but its torso and limbs were so alien that I cannot correctly describe it. In that frenzied moment I somehow managed to walk out of range of the strange machine. I reeled as my senses snapped back into place and I screamed for the thing remained, its long and utterly alien limbs stretching grab me. It muttered something in a strange tongue that echoed through the room, as if in a monstrous cavern. In that moment as it reached towards me with a sickening tendril I screamed and ran for the door, ducking out of its reach. I continued up the stairs and out of the house, running to the car and driving away as fast as I could. Though I could no longer see the thing, I could hear its terrible chorus calling to me, beckoning me as though it stood beside me. The calls slowly faded as I came to the town, now scarcely above a whisper.  
And as I sit here watching night fall across the silent hills, still that whisper haunts me, calling to me. The few times IÕve tried to sleep have been interrupted with nightmarish dreams, and when I wake up I feel as though something has stood beside me, waiting. For it is in my dreams that the terror comes to me. The old man from the cafe is gone, and absently looking at a picture of the Melbourn boy I know now why he seemed so familiar, and why he was so old and miserable. Even now my hair is graying, and I feel as though my body has been tainted with the rot that permeated the house, and those eons on the floor stay with me. I feel in my mind that there is no other thing left for me now but to wait for the thing to take me, as the Melbourn boy must have. That need to know will always seek to be satiated, even though it may mean madness and death. When my time comes, I will satiate that hunger and be rewarded with the final and terrible knowledge of everything. 


End file.
